White Roses
by Anna Maxwell
Summary: Aya is given good news just before his world crashes down. As he's falling apart, Yohji steps in.


Title: White Roses  
  
Author: Anna Maxwell  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Disclaimer: Original WK characters do not belong to me. ^_^ Darn.  
  
Warnings: Alternate ending for the series. I haven't seen the OVAs yet, so this is before that. _ All I know is they beat Yohji up..wai.Short fic, angst, fluff.. Author's notes: Spur o' the moment thing. My first solid Weiss fic. (As in no Schwartz.) Enjoy! Feel free to email me at starchaser478@hotmail.com with remarks, praise, and complaints.^_^  
  
  
  
White Roses  
  
  
  
Aya Fujimiya stood alone in the semi-dark, fiddling with his current flower arrangement. This one was extra-special, not because it was costing some wealthy businessman a lot of money to impress a lady friend, or because it was being sent to a fiancée from an out of towner. It was bought and paid for by himself, and it was going to his sister.  
  
He allowed himself a half smile as he arranged the twelve white roses into a setting he was happy with. The doctors had called two days ago and left a message telling him that his sister was showing signs of improvement. She might even wake up soon.  
  
This was the first night since the call he had been able to visit her. It had been a week of solid missions, and they had another one starting first thing in the morning that would last for several days. He was going to leave her the roses to remind her that he was still there, waiting for her.  
  
  
  
There was a sound on the stairs behind him and he stiffened slightly. He knew who it was without even turning around. Yohji's distinct sound and even scent came up behind him.  
  
"Nanda? I didn't know we got an order for white roses." Yohji said quietly.  
  
"We didn't." Aya replied, stressing the pronoun.  
  
"For your sister?" Yohji guessed.  
  
Aya simply nodded. He frowned as Yohji began to inspect his work. He hadn't asked for the older man's scrutiny. His frown continued to deepen as Yohji 'hmmed' and narrowed his eyes.  
  
"It's missing something." The playboy finally said, leaning back.  
  
Aya resisted the temptation to smash the vase over the blonde head. "Honto." He said shortly.  
  
"Honto ni." Yohji replied, leaning around Aya to the assortment of flowers on the counter. He poked around until he found one he liked and held it up to Aya. "It just needs a little color."  
  
Yohji stuck the sunflower directly in the middle of the rose arrangement and smiled. "There. It makes it pop."  
  
Aya had moved his hand automatically to snatch the yellow flower out of his perfect job, but his hand froze halfway there. The bright patch in his field of white did make it stand out, and gave it a little more personality. He blinked slowly, lids slipping shut over violet orbs only to reopen and see the arrangement in a different way. It stood, alone and grinning, almost daring Aya to pluck it out and end it's short life. Like Yohji stood alone and grinning, daring Aya to reach out.  
  
"Hai." He finally mumbled.  
  
A grin spread across Yohji's face as Aya pushed the flowers around some more before nodding his finish. He squeezed Aya's shoulder before grabbing his coat. "Say 'hi' to her for me, ne?" he asked. He shut the door behind him, off to his night roaming.  
  
Aya stared after him for a long moment, grabbed his coat and the flowers, and headed for the hospital.  
  
  
  
"I'm looking for Aya Fujimiya. She isn't in her room."  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Her brother."  
  
"Oh, hon, I'm so sorry. The little girl passed away early this morning. We've been trying to reach you.Wait! Sir! Mr. Fujimiya?!"  
  
  
  
Yohji shut the door that lead into the resident area of the Koneko quietly behind him and sighed. It had been a bad night all around. He'd had a feeling in his gut the whole evening until the girls had given up and even the alcohol had lost its appeal.  
  
He dropped his coat over the back of a chair and ran a hand over his face. May as well get some sleep, the night wasn't going to be good for anything else. He headed towards the stairs, but the sight of the trashcan stopped him.  
  
There, in the downstairs kitchen trashcan, was a bouquet of flowers. It was upside down with the stems sticking up, as if it had been roughly shoved in there. Yohji bent and pulled them back, shock lining his features as he recognized the rose arrangement Aya had made earlier, and his sunflower still in the middle. He pulled it out of the mess, and found one rose that hadn't been crushed. He held them together in his fingers and laid the rest of the bouquet in the trashcan. Surely Aya hadn't trashed the whole thing just because he'd stuck another flower in there. And he'd looked almost pleased when Yohji left. The blonde frowned and headed up the stairs.  
  
Aya's door was shut, which wasn't unusual. Yohji placed his hand on the doorknob, unsure of the reason why he was so concerned. He closed his eyes and remembered the sight of the flowers, crushed in the trash, and his stomach clenched. Instinct. He'd always lived by his instinct. He twisted the knob and the door swung open.  
  
Moonlight spilled across the neat room, giving it an ethereal glow. The beams even stretched to the bed on the far side of the room, highlighting Aya's bright hair and lithe form. Yohji shook his head and was about to back out of the room again when he noticed that Aya was moving. More to the point, Aya was shivering. It wasn't cold in the house.which meant Aya was trembling.  
  
Yohji moved forward slowly. "Aya?" he called softly.  
  
The body on the bed stiffened. The redhead mumbled something that Yohji couldn't distinguish. He continued forward and sat on the bed, Aya's back to him. Yohji tentatively reached a hand out and laid it on Aya's arm.  
  
"Daijoubu?" he murmured.  
  
Aya twisted slightly, out of his grasp. "Go away." He snarled darkly, still trembling.  
  
Yohji replaced his hand and bent closer. "What happened, Aya?"  
  
Aya again twisted away from him, almost snarling. "Get away from me, and don't say that name around me. Just get out! Just leave.like everyone leaves."  
  
Yohji pulled on the shoulder he was holding, forcing Aya to half roll over. His pale face was obscured by red bangs, but there were tear stains on his cheeks.  
  
"What are you talking about? No body's leaving." Yohji said.  
  
Aya said nothing.  
  
Yohji reached up to brush Aya's bangs away from his face, but Aya tipped his head away, not allowing the other to touch him. Yohji sighed.  
  
"Aya? Why were the flowers in the trash?" he asked softly.  
  
The younger man shuddered and tried to pull away. Yohji gripped his shoulder more tightly. "Aya."  
  
"She wasn't there." Aya whispered.  
  
Yohji titled his head. "Nani? They moved her?"  
  
"Yeah. To the morgue." Aya said coldly.  
  
Yohji froze, his fingers digging into the shoulder beneath him. "That's not really funny," he muttered.  
  
"No. It wasn't. She left me, Yohji. She didn't wait for me." the last sentence was dropped to a hushed whisper and pained violet eyes sought out the sympathetic green of his friend's.  
  
  
  
Yohji stared at him, completely speechless. He was still shocked enough that he didn't respond when Aya rolled away from him, curling into the wall his bed was against.  
  
Yohji stared at the same wall for a few moments. He'd been there two days ago when they had called, saying that the female Aya was showing improvement, and seen the masked joy in the violet eyes. And now, now she was dead, shattering everything his younger friend lived for. Yohji hadn't even known about Aya's sister very long, and it was only because of an errant remark made by Schwartz's resident telepath.  
  
His reverie was broken by a muffled sound coming from Aya's direction. Yohji dropped the flowers he was still holding and scooted closer to him on the bed, replacing the hand on Aya's arm.  
  
"Hey, Aya."  
  
"Just go. You may as well do it now."  
  
Yohji shook him slightly. "Hey, I don't know about you, but when I make a commitment to a friend I stick to it. I told you once I'd always be around for you. We're best friends, remember?"  
  
"Friendship is an illusion. In the end everyone deserts you and betrays you. Everybody's a traitor."  
  
"That hurts, Ayan." Yohji murmured.  
  
Aya's form shuddered. "She didn't wait. I..I didn't even get to say goodbye to her." He whispered, his voice faltering.  
  
Yohji winced at the raw tone of his voice. "I'm so sorry, Aya, I wish I would have been there." he sighed.  
  
Aya tilted his head towards Yohji, looking up at him with wide, bleary violet eyes. "Do you mean that?"  
  
Yohji blinked. "Yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Yohji smiled sadly. "Because I know what it feels like, to loose someone you love, and be all by yourself."  
  
Asuka, Aya realized. He remembered the night they had fought Schrient, and Yohji had killed the one they called Neu. He found out later she had been Asuka, the only woman Yohji had ever really loved. A pang of guilt ran under his grief and he wondered if any body had been there for Yohji that night besides Jack Daniels.  
  
"If we loved them so much.then why?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it. There was no rhyme or reason why life worked the way it did, or why death came in and stole when it did.  
  
Yohji brushed some of Aya's tears away with his thumb. "You're gonna be okay without her, Ayan. You've got other reasons for living and fighting. She'll wait, just not here."  
  
He was serious. The emerald eyes staring down at him were perfectly serious. Yohji wasn't playing him, wasn't patronizing him. He honestly wanted to be there as his friend, as someone who wouldn't up and abandon him. Aya caught back a sob and slowly reached up, shutting his eyes, hoping he wouldn't regret making himself vulnerable.  
  
A split second later he was wrapped up in warmth as the older man embraced him, clutching to him, telling him it was okay to let it go. So Aya sobbed, face buried against Yohji's shoulder. Yohji cradled him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair until the initial shaking and tears subsided. He continued to rock ever so slightly, the natural comforter in him taking over.  
  
He mumbled things of little importance but showed his support and his willingness to be there. Yohji stared out at nothing with pained emerald eyes, understanding the pain Aya felt.  
  
Aya laid against him, his body quivering from the tension and sobs. His breath came in short shudders. His hands clenched in the black fabric of Yohji's shirt as the older man pulled away slightly.  
  
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere," Yohji said quietly, smiling gently at him.  
  
"You'll stay, Yotan?" Aya whispered, not looking at him.  
  
"Yeah. For as long as you want." Yohji replied. Not all friendships were illusions, one just had to open themselves to the depth of a true friendship. Yohji smiled sadly. Even if he didn't know it now, maybe Aya- chan's dying would let Aya -Ran- live again.  
  
He would be okay. Aya would be okay. Some things Yohji Kudoh just didn't give up on.  
  
Yohji's gaze fell on the rose and the sunflower he'd dropped to the floor, still intertwined together. Yeah, he thought, some things, however impossible they seem to go together, you just don't give up on.  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Yeah, I'm putting one down here too. ^^ I know it was a little OOC, but I think Aya might react something like that. Since I don't know the man personally..But this was non-yaoi. I can see how some of you might read it like that, and if that's your preference, that's how you see it. My beliefs don't lend to yaoi, but I'm not going to slam you or rant about how it isn't right. Everyone is entitled to their own view of things. So, however you chose to read it, I hope you enjoyed it.  
  
  
  
Oh, and before I forget, I used their nicknames several times in here. I think they're cute, and when I write Weiß I tend to use them. Ayan, Yotan, KenKen, and Omitichi. Just makes you want to hug 'em.  
  
  
  
Don't forget, I love feedback. ^_^ Review, or if you like, email me at starchaser478@hotmail.com for opinions, flames, or whatnot. Thank you! 


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